


New Life

by MixedBreedMaiya



Category: Tales of Symphonia
Genre: Angst, Character Development, Emotional Baggage, Forgiveness, Growth, Healing, Self-Acceptance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2014-11-06
Packaged: 2018-02-24 07:10:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2572703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MixedBreedMaiya/pseuds/MixedBreedMaiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She was angry... But who, exactly, was she angry with?" From hatred to forgiveness, the Professor finds herself a student at the instruction of friends and those she comes to consider family. The child she was and the woman she is finally come to terms, and she can move forward in living her new life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Life

**Author's Note:**

> This is another repost from my fanfiction.net account. It didn't get much attention there, and it may amount to nothing here, either, but I'm quite proud of it all the same. :D
> 
> Raine: It's not a love story.
> 
> Not everything is a love story, Raine.
> 
> Raine: It is with you. Just ask Regal.
> 
> Don't pretend you don't love cuddling with Regal. Alas, you're right; this is not a story of romance, but of introspection and emotional healing for the most emotionally constipated woman of all.
> 
> Raine: ...What did you just call me?
> 
> A woman. Like it or not, honey, you are female.
> 
> Raine: That is not what I meant. -.-
> 
> :D Special thanks, as always, go out to  
> God, the source of my talent and passion;  
> Namco;  
> My readership on fanfiction.net and all those who support me in my writing;  
> My beta reader(s), who all know who they are  
> And my darling dearest Raine, who claims to hate me but really adores me deep, deep down!

_I don’t understand what’s happening. Why are you crying, Mama? Where is Papa? Why didn’t he come with us? Is he alright? Is he sick? We should go back and get him. I want Papa. I’m worried about him. Mama, where are we going? We can’t leave without Papa. He will worry if we go. Mama, why are you crying? I think the baby is upset. Maybe he’s cold. It’s cold out here. Where are we going?_

_Mama, I love you. Please don’t cry…_

Crouching down in front of her young brother, she looked up into his blinking face and held his gaze. His head was tilted, and he blinked at her quietly as he rubbed one eye with a little fist. “Okay,” she told him softly as she brushed with her thumb a smudge of dirt on his cheek. “It’s all arranged now. This is where we’ll be for a little while. I’ve agreed to teach the children in this village. No one knows us here, so we’ll be safe.”

“Do I have to tell them we’re—“

“Yes.” He flinched at her sharp interruption, and she grimaced with regret. Lowering her voice again, she continued. “That’s how it has to be, Genis. You must never tell anyone—you know why, don’t you?” 

The child dropped his violet eyes to the dirt. “…Because every time someone finds out, we have to leave again,” he mumbled. The resignation in his voice broke her heart, but she set her jaw and nodded. 

“Yes. Half-elves are hated by the world, and they always will be.” With a mother’s touch, she tucked back a little of his unruly white hair. “But if we’re elves, then no one will bother us.” Even now, while she recited the familiar words automatically, they still left a bitter taste in her mouth. Maybe it should have gotten easier to say in the past seven years. 

It hadn’t. 

“So…then…are we gonna live here now?” 

He peeped up at her, and she could see the desperation for some sort of hope painted all over his face. She had long since quashed that longing in herself; she had had to. It was…harder to do to him. He was still so young, and there were so many things from which she wanted, needed, to protect him. But she also needed to prepare him, and blind optimism simply was not an option. Still, she hesitated. 

She licked the tip of her thumb and rubbed at his cheek again. “For a while,” she finally repeated. “But this isn’t permanent, Genis.” It never was. They both had dreams of truly settling somewhere, but she knew they were just that—dreams. “This village is full of humans, just like everywhere else.” 

He looked away again, glaring at the beginnings of a sapling trying to fight its way through the soil. “And humans make us leave. I hate humans.” The boy blinked, though, and turned back to her. “But…what about Allan? How come he didn’t come with us? He’s okay, right?” 

Every muscle stiffened, and she swallowed deliberately. An invisible handprint seared around her upper arm. Taking her brother’s chin in one hand while the other fisted against her thigh, she spoke gravely. “Listen to me, Genis. We will never see Allan again. He’s one of those humans you hate, and he betrayed us. He’s the reason we had to leave Luin. Do you understand me? We have to stay away from him. We can’t trust him—we can’t trust anyone.” 

He looked hurt, even scared, but he tugged out of her grasp and turned his eyes toward the village and all the sleepy homes with laundry strung out to dry and little vegetable and herb gardens being prepared for a new season’s planting. A few moments passed between them in silence. As she rose to her feet and followed his gaze, she felt him slip his hand into hers and lean into her leg, and she held him close. Just the two of them, against everything, everyone else. Whatever they faced in in this village, she would protect him. 

“…It’s kind of pretty, though…isn’t it?”

She watched a cat bathe itself through half-lidded eyes and let the breeze play with the ends of her hair. “It will do,” she murmured at length. “…For a while.” 

\- - -

_Mama, I’m scared… Where did you go? The baby is crying, and I don’t know what he wants. Where are we? Why did you leave? Did I do something wrong, Mama? Are you angry with me? Please tell me what happened. Please come back. I’m lost, and I’m hungry. It’s dark out here, and it’s starting to rain. I’m cold, Mama. We’re both cold. I don’t have anything for the baby. He wants you. He needs you. I can’t do anything for him. I can’t do anything. He needs you. I need you. Mama, where did you go? I can’t find you. I don’t know this place, and I’m so scared. Mama, please come back. It’s so cold, and I want to come home._

_Please, Mama, Papa, I want to come home!_

__

One hand closed tightly around the windowsill as she watched the group of boys tramping along through the village outside. There were no classes today, and fearless leader Lloyd Irving was not about to let his faithful posse waste such an opportunity to play and carouse to their hearts’ content. He was a terrible student and a reckless boy, and it was beyond her why his “father” or the village should let him come and go through the forest, on a daily basis, by himself, but it was a mystery she had learned to accept in the past year since first meeting him. It didn’t really matter to her one way or another what he did—except that, as of the past few days, he had one more bright-eyed and eager face following him about. 

__

She could see her brother’s grin and hear his laughter; she could see him tumble to the dirt and get set back on his feet by someone other than her. To anyone else, maybe it would bring a smile, but it made her heart pound with anxiety. Everything she had said they could never do, he was out there doing. They were not a part of this village. It was temporary. Eventually they would leave again. Eventually Iselia, too, would grow tired of them. 

__

Eventually her brother would be hurt. 

__

Closing her eyes, she turned from the window and sank back against the sill. When he came back after this ill-fated jaunt, they would have to have a discussion. She had established and maintained distance between herself and even the children she taught; she had their respect, but it was a formal and cool relationship—and they were all fascinated by the exotic, alleged _elves_. That fascination was bound to turn to curiosity at any time, and curiosity would lead to exposure. So why, in the name of the goddess, was he letting these humans play him so? 

__

When she looked up again, a small pile of clothes atop his bed caught her eye. She raised an eyebrow, then let a quiet sigh pass her lips as she pushed away from the window toward it. That sort of careless haste wasn’t like him. “We definitely need to nip this,” she murmured, reaching out to pick up the shirt lying, half inside-out, on top. What had he been _doing_ that morning when she had paid a brief visit to the schoolhouse? 

__

As she lifted the last sock, she paused to blink at the folded and creased sheet of paper that had been lying under the mess. Her first thought was forgotten, or even ignored, homework, and her lips pursed in displeasure. They soon puckered with confusion, however—and then parted altogether when realization hit her. 

__

For a long time she just stared at the host of stick figures. There was his self-portrait, a giant smile on its face while all around him others wore similar expressions. Everyone’s arms, of varying lengths and shapes, were raised, and there, right next to her brother, stood one unmistakably meant to be Lloyd. The paper crinkled as her fingers curled tightly about the edges. There was a crease in her brow to match the one through the middle of the drawing. She mumbled his name through an achy throat. 

__

A knock on the door actually made her jump, though it had been little more than a tentative tap. She looked down at the paper, crumpled where she had clutched it, and set both it and the sock on the stand nearby. She paused by the door to draw a deep breath and school her expression, but after a beat, she tugged it open slowly. She had to look down to find her solicitor in the form of a little girl with a long, blond braid down her back and a little box cupped in both hands. Her smile could have rivaled the ones in her brother’s masterpiece. “…Chosen One,” she greeted softly, though not without some surprise. 

__

The child only beamed all the more brightly as she held up the parcel. “Happy Birthday, Professor Sage!” she cried. 

She blinked. “Birthday…?” Then, gathering herself again, she shook her head. “Thank you, Miss Brunel, but it is not—“ 

__

“Oh, I know.” Colette rocked back and forth on her toes. “At least, I kind of thought it probably wasn’t _really_. But it also sort of is!” 

__

“I don’t…understand…” 

__

“Well, it’s because it’s been exactly one year today since you and Genis came to Iselia! We already know when his birthday is, but I realized that no one knows yours. And when I asked Genis, he didn’t know either, so I thought of how much you’re missing out because nobody knows.” Big, blue eyes peered up earnestly through bangs in need of cut. 

__

“That still doesn’t explain…” 

__

Colette drew the box in toward her chest and looked down at it with a more contemplative smile. “Well…it’s because today marks the first day of your new life in Iselia. See…I didn’t know you before you came, but now I do, and it makes me so happy. You were a new person coming into our lives, and every new life should be celebrated. That’s why…I made you this!” The excitement was back behind the blush she had learned to recognize as one of the young Chosen’s signature traits, and little hands presented the modestly wrapped box again. 

She was quiet and still, staring at that box for a long moment before very hesitantly reaching out to accept it. There she let it sit, cupped in her palms now instead. “I…ah…thank you?” 

__

The girl clasped her hands to her mouth and smiled, so impossibly happy for the life she had been dealt. “This village is home to lots of wonderful people. I’m really glad you’re one of them. And I know it’s maybe not your real birthday, but I’m just going to say it is from now on, okay?” 

__

The boys’ raucous, carefree laughter reached her from near the schoolhouse. She turned her head to look vaguely over her shoulder, toward the drawing. 

__

“New life…”

\--- 

_It isn’t true, is it? What they’re saying can’t be true. Everyone says you abandoned us, but it just can’t be true. Mama, what did I do? The baby is too young, so it had to be me. They say we’re monsters. They say we don’t belong, that you didn’t want us. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mama. I’m sorry, Papa. I didn’t mean to be this way. I didn’t mean to be half. But did you really not want us? Do you hate us, Mama? You can hate me. I don’t mind, because I know there must be something wrong with me. But don’t hate the baby. He didn’t do anything wrong. You can hate me, and Papa can be angry. I just want to see you again. I don’t like it here._

_I’m sorry I’m not good enough. I’m sorry I’m a monster. I didn’t mean to be…_

So, this was what it all came to: a madwoman cloistered away in a forgotten city, nursing old wounds and scars by pretending that she had never hurt anyone. Pretending she was innocent. But she didn’t have the right to hide in insanity, because she wasn’t innocent. 

Or was that just her own way of pretending _she_ was? 

She turned a page in the time-stained diary, reading the words written by a mind not quite yet shattered, so many years ago. Virginia had been a happy woman once. She had had a husband, a home, and a family, and then…it had all been gone, just like that. She didn’t even know what to think anymore. Great news, her brother had said. Powerless mother, read the plea in this book. But what was so great about being powerless? Being powerless had robbed Kloitz of his life, Virginia of her family, Genis of security, and her of a childhood. What in the goddess’ name made this news _great_? 

She was angry—but she was scared, too. Feelings she had set aside and buried under years and miles were pulling against their bonds, threatening over a decade’s worth of defenses and composure. She had finally, finally found somewhere she felt comfortable and people she felt comfortable being there with. And now Virginia had the nerve to come back, ask for forgiveness, and remind her of how fragile all of it was? 

And yet…who, exactly, was she angry with? 

She closed her eyes and snapped the diary shut, allowing the accursed thing to tumble rather haphazardly into the open satchel lying on the ground next to her foot. She was sitting on a boulder as the others lounged about the camp they had just established nearby. To be quite honest with even herself, she had been ignoring almost everything around her since their unexpected little encounter on Exire. There was only so much she could process at one time. 

It was ridiculous. She was an adult, and this had _nothing_ to do with the crisis with which they were all currently dealing—the crisis of entire worlds’ safety and well-being. And on top of it, she couldn’t even find a solution. Leaning forward with her elbows against her thighs, she rubbed her face with both hands. What she wouldn’t give for a spell to pause time. 

“One..two…three—“ 

“ _Happy Birthday, Raine_!” 

She sat bolt upright, wide eyes immediately met by the sight of the three people who had just exploded in unison with enough noise to wake the entire continent, standing in a semi-circle around her with arms in the air and enormous grins of their faces. The Tethe’allan half of their wayward troupe was off to the side, giving the scene looks as strange as the one she wore for a minute, so thoroughly startled she had been. “What th… Oh.” Was it…really that day again? She blinked once, twice, just as the others ambled over. 

“Birthday? Raine, you sneaky vixen! Why didn’t you tell us it was your special day!” exclaimed their resident redhead. 

To hide the flustered heat creeping into her cheeks, she turned her head. “For one, because it isn’t. Honestly… The things you remember and the things you don’t.” 

“Mm-mm!” Sylvarant’s Chosen held up one slender finger. “Even if it’s not really the Professor’s actual birthday, it still is a very special day!” 

“Yeah, that’s right. Today’s the day these two showed up in Iselia.” Lloyd slung an arm around the other boy’s neck and planted a fist atop his head. 

“Yes!” Colette clasped her hands and whirled to face the curious onlookers. “Since we didn’t know when Professor Sage was actually born, we decided to celebrate when we had the privilege of meeting her instead, since it’s almost like she was born to the village that day. We’ve done this every year since!” 

Did they all…really remember that day? She stared distantly at the grass off to the side. 

“Aw, that’s so sweet,” chirped Sheena, one hand on her hip. “Hey, well then, happy birthday from me, too, Raine!” 

“That is certainly a meeting worth celebrating,” was Regal’s observation. “But in that case, shouldn’t it be Genis’ as well?” 

Colette tapped her mouth. “Well…but we already knew when Genis’ birthday was. So of course I’m super glad to know him, too!” She accentuated her words by hugging the young man who still had his head trapped by someone else’s arm. “But I wanted there to be a special day just for her, so she could know how much we love her!” 

“O~h, so we’re expressing our love today, are we? I’m for that! Care to whisper your birthday wishes in my ear, or shall I make some suggestions?” 

“Zelos… I do not think that was what Colette was trying to imply.” 

“I believe that might be a lost cause, Presea.” 

“Ugh, Zelos, way to kill a moment.” 

“Wait, what’s wrong…? I think it’s sweet that Zelos wants to grant her a birthday wish!” 

“Except it’d be his wish, the perv.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“G—nothing, never mind!” “Hahaha, Sheena, you’re blushing!” 

“It always seems to come to this…” 

“S-stop it, just—drop the subject already, will you?!” 

She listened to the laughing, cheerful conversation tossed back and forth. It was an exchange between friends, as though they hadn’t a care in the world. They were just happy. It was alright that they had problems; they could all still smile. Through the fingers of the hand now splayed over her face, she looked at the diary as the voices carried on above and around her. 

It wasn’t a matter of “they” or “them,” was it? She was part of it. And they were celebrating not just with her, but for her. Celebrating…her. 

“Professor?” 

She looked up slowly to find Colette leaning over to be closer to her. The others were still in some distracted discussion or another, but the youngest Chosen smiled only at her. 

“Thank you for coming to Iselia, and for coming on the Journey of Regeneration with me. I can’t imagine what it would have been like without you. I know you might think it’s silly, but everyone deserves a day to feel loved. Happy birthday.” 

Her eyes dropped again, and she waited until Colette had turned her attention back to the others, but two little words from five years before passed her lips in a murmur that went unheard. “New life.” She closed her eyes and nudged the satchel closed gently with her foot. 

“…Alright, boys. Break it up; we need to decide our next move.” 

\--- 

The smell of charred wood and ash still lingered in the hollow shell of little house on the hill. It mingled with dust and the decay of neglect; it would never be livable again. It probably wasn’t sound in the least, either, but she trusted it. She trusted it enough for this. 

The voices of her companions floated on the breeze from the village center. She would join them soon—but there was something she had to do first. As she stood beside that old pond, a single duck watching her curiously, she looked up at the familiar outline and shifted the rectangular parcel cradled in the crook of one elbow. She took a deep, silent breath, and stepped forward. 

Nothing stirred in the blackened ruin when she slipped inside; even the soot seemed content to lie at peace. She could see the remains of two beds, one of the bookshelves, and what appeared, perhaps, to have once been a chair, but it was all memory, now. Just a ghost image; a representation of the past—and, in some ways, the future. 

She crept forward, letting her mind recreate in detailed wholeness the interior of the house as it had been. But she only permitted herself a brief indulgence before she paused there in the middle of the room. With deft fingers she unwrapped the paper and lifted the diary to peer at is faded cover in the dim patches of dusty sunlight falling through cracks and holes. She turned it this way, then that, running her thumb gently across the spine. Then, crouching, she nestled that diary into a bed of soot and ash, leaving the once-ornate lettering to glint in a sliver of light. An unwittingly held breath released gently, and she rose back to her feet. 

The stillness followed her back out into the daylight, but the heaviness stayed behind at the door. She paused on the hill for a moment, lifting her eyes toward a lazy cloud. 

“…Raine?” 

With a blink, she turned her head a bit to meet Regal’s gaze as he lingered on the path nearby. His unbound hands rested behind his back, but he was watching her curiously. “Forgive me,” he offered. “I was on my way to join the others. I didn’t expect to find you here alone. Have I...interrupted something?” 

She glanced back at the burnt-out hovel. “…No,” she replied at length. “I was just saying goodbye.” 

He took a tiny step backward as she descended the few steps to join him on the path. “To the house?” 

Again she paused. “I suppose you could say…I’m saying goodbye to a prison cell of my own.” A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth and spread until it was small, but unmistakable. Without waiting for an answer, she linked her own hands behind her back and began to walk down the path toward the gathering. 

_I know why you did what you did. Your intentions were noble, and the pain you felt must have been unbearable, but that does not make it right. How was I to be honest with myself when you were never honest with me? You never gave me a choice, never gave Genis a choice. I tried to trust and you showed me betrayal; I tried to love and you showed me pain, and through that pain you taught me to hate—most of all, to hate myself. But I don’t anymore._

_Because of you, I met people who can accept me, and I know that I am stronger than you could ever be. You wanted what was best for us, but we are the ones who found it. Where you failed I have succeeded, and now I am choosing to be free from the weight you put upon me._

_I forgive you, but I no longer need you. I can stand just fine on my own._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Raine: I hate you.
> 
> No you don't. And now you don't hate you, either!
> 
> Raine: I hate you so much.


End file.
